The Sunday morning paper is special – trying to find the
right section; sorting through all these advertisements, turning pages looking
at the pictures (colored today printed on plastized paper). Looking to see if there is something that is
worth reading. People will ask you – did you see in the paper yesterday where....?
And you will say, I saw that, and a conversation will go on (especially when
its sports and he’s another guy). Can’t
be bothered with the real-estate, it’s a community affair. Then you’ll say, did
you see where....? You discard the trash in a pile to the left. What is
readable is not much – the pile that is left is very small. Entertainment,
sports, national news – some people read the editorials and the obits I don’t
know what they are bitching about now whose laurels they’re proclaiming – it’s
not my community). Sip coffee. The
coffee here is very acidic but it is hot and sort of black and it is comfy here
in this sunny nook. Well that about does it for this Sunday morning.
That process of wish and imagination, launched or completed
a million times every second, is the engine of our civilization. While barter
seeks to match two wishes and annul them, money survives each sale or payment
and must be deployed by its new holder or it ceases to be money – James Buchan
– Frozen Desire: the meaning of money, 1997
p19
A wedding party – the bride and groom, and all their functionaries.
They all come to the Castle for the picture taking. Congratulations, I say to
the groom. Thanks, he replies. It’s really not a castle but the hulk a burnt
out mansion of native stone. It is being promoted as a European style castle.
It’s one of Missouri’s romantic connections to the Rhine River. Every palce
pretents that it is some place else. This and Herman on the Big River. And
Little Dixie but it has nothing to do with Germany. The Germans mostly lived in
St Louis and voted for Lincoln. But the
sitting is rather spectacular sitting atop a two hundred foot cliff above a
bubbling spring pool. This place is probably grandeur now as a ruin that it was
in its original state. If not for the fire I would not be here. I would never
have been invited as a guest.
If he could work a good mule down into the ground and get a
good lather on him then we would say he’s a good worker. But I don’t thing we
are going to see that...
I take the more strenuous path, the Blue Path down to the
springs. The sign warns, “Do not take this path unless you are in good physical
shape – 315 steps to descent the 200 feet of cliff face.” I took the long way
back and then I took a nap.
Summer had been ten feet tall. It seemed endless, convincing
us of our immortality. We came to terms with the inevitable when the sky
grayed, turned pearly, opaque – Christopher Kennedy – Ennui Prophet, 2011 p24
It’s
the Rage
Warfare
Welfare
Needle
In a hay stack
Play fair
Country fair
Fair exchange
All’s fair
Love and war
Bus fare
Rideshare
Road rage
War on our highways
By the bi-way
All the road rage
There are ecstasies and then there are ecstasies. This isn’t
one of them. This is the brown heroin of love, the pure injection of irrational
thought – Christopher Kennedy – Ennui Prophet, 2011 p 36
B2s take off at dawn
From Whiteman
They’ll bomb Chandra
Tonight
Musselmen will die
While wives
Play bridge tonight
Brave warriors endure
Ennui to
bring
Democracy to
Others
These long hours of tedium
Flying to Chandra
And back
For every Musselman
Who shall
die
A trick is taken back
At Whiteman
Until their men return
They’ll
play cards
These brave warriors
Taking off
at dawn
While their wives go
On having
fun
The burden of world history has passed to a few pale, fat
men gliding like phantoms at noon toward their Lincoln Town cars… Civilizations
with their ancient architecture and civil sentiment had become worthless –
James Buchan – Frozen Desire: the meaning of money, 1997 p4
Ticks drop from trees
Hardy as acorns
When it rains they pour
The value of money has been settled by general consent to
express our wants and our property, as letters were invented to express our
ideas – Edward Gibbons
There was a rustling up on the hillside to my left, the lake
was to my right. A squirrel perhaps? No it is still oncoming towards me.
Perhaps a beaver or muskrat trying to get back to the safety of the water (I
was half right as it turned out)? I stop and try to spot it as it comes rushing
onward. Wait, it could be a rabid skunk. Dry leaves are flying. Tall grasses
are swaying. Then I see it. A big black snake trashing – hurdling towards me
with all its awkward muscular might.. It disappears behind a tree beside me. It
must have gone into its burrow. It gets quiet again. There is no motion in the
brush. I go on. Then it comes on again. Two feet behind me it darts out of the
grass onto the path that I had just trod. It’s a five foot cottonmouth intent
of getting to the lake. Now its in the water where its sinuous motions become
more graceful – a side to side slither rather than a tumultuous thrashing. It
has a beauty as it heads towards deeper water and disappears.
What audiences are doing… is drawing from the endless media stream that passes
them by a set of diverse elements out of
which they can construct imaginative worlds that suit them… The use of particular media resources for the
imagination is not a random process –
Nicolas Abnercombie – Audiences, 1998
p107
No comments:
Post a Comment